Words to Start Your Week: Gifts for kids

Friday Funny: But they are cute…

Words to Start Your Week: Advice for parents of teens

Just Write #224 ~ Heartbreaking truths

Among the greatest surprises of my adult life is that I would take my daughter’s breakups as hard (maybe harder) than they do. I could not be more surprised by this as I’m a person who, as a rule, does not get attached. There are few people in my life I can’t/haven’t/wouldn’t walk away from and be just fine.

I have always considered that a point of pride (I’m an independent woman…yeah, b****), but I’m learning now that it’s actually an attachment disorder. Um…I guess. Probably?

I don’t recall ever being all that upset about any of my own breakups over the years, with the exception of the first “real” boyfriend. That one hurt for years. But, I’m sitting here trying to even remember his last name right now. So….I mean…there you go. Proof that time heals all wounds. And, apparently, it steals your memory too, so it all kinda works out in the end.

But…yeah, it takes time.

In talking with a running girlfriend about it the other day, I said:  “You know, all it’s going to take for her to forget he exists is another person to show interest.”

“See, but, that makes me so sad,” she said. “Why does she need anyone to like her, you know? She’s amazing and funny and smart and so cute. Why does she need a boyfriend?”

“Right? And, frankly, I can think of a hundred things more worthy of that time and energy for her.”

But my running girlfriend and I are old enough to know that now. To know that the great American Dream we are sold (big house, nice car, in-ground pool), the fulfillment to be found in a soulmate, and the absolute joy and sense of purpose to be found in parenting is mostly another fantastical fabrication of our culture. Say it enough and people start to think it’s true, even if it’s absurd and makes no sense  and everyone knows it’s false (Trump 101).

There may be people who find all that in a spouse and kids and a McMansion in the ‘burbs, but it’s my experience that most middle age women are in some form of hell of their own making. Because it’s what is expected of us.

College degree. Car. Spouse. House. Career. Kids.

It’s a constant treadmill of accomplishments and acquisitions. Check. Next step. Check. Next step. Check. We’re so busy (busy, busy, busy) moving forward that we never stop (who has time?!) to think about where we are going or why or if it’s anything we actually even want. We just know that’s what we should want/do/be.

I love my husband, my kids, my home, my job…and yet, I can acknowledge that all of these things also drain the life out of me. They are a ton of work.

I tell my girls a lot: Think carefully about marriage and kids and if that’s something you really want because what it comes with is an entire lifetime of work. You will be taking care of others until the day you die. It never ends.

When you think about it, marriage is not a great deal for women who, today, can mostly provide for themselves. The husband gets someone to take care of them, bear and raise the children, bring in half the household income, keep track of everything, do the shopping, clean the house, have sex with, and cook them food. The wife gets um, let’s see….*checks notes*….financial security and his love. Maybe. As long as she doesn’t get fat. Or old. Or turn bitter and angry. Or let herself go.

I mean….have we really thought this through, ladies?

I suppose it’s just that kind of thinking that is scaring the ever-loving shit out of the far right/conservatives who are working every day—every damn day—to control women and silence anyone and anything that threatens the status quo. They have a lot to lose if we stop living for the attention and approval of men.

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About Just Write: Just Write is my adaptation of free writing, a technique in which a person writes continuously and quickly without little regard for spelling, grammar, or topic. It helps writers overcome blocks of apathy and explore everything from meaningful topics to mundane observations with the same effort and without the pressure of crafting perfect prose. I just start writing.

Just Write #213 ~ Thanksgiving

There’s a turkey made of butter on the “kids table” and as soon as I see it, I dare my brother to eat it.

“I’ll give you $20 to eat that entire bird right now.”

He declined and I called him a wimp.

I’m fifty years old but put me back in my mom’s house with all my siblings and we all revert to teenagers and assume our traditional roles. I’m the rebel bad kid always looking for (or starting) trouble, but never getting caught. It’s a gift.

So is this loud house full of people.

No matter where I stand, I’m in the way … of Pam putting together her epic charcuterie board, Syd making punch, Bethany browning the rolls, Dan cutting the turkey, mom stirring the mashed potatoes keeping warm in her ancient crock pot.

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It’s hot, and crowded, and loud. And, I love it. There are downsides to having a big family, sure. Back in the day, there was never enough money, time, space, or patience. But now, I’m eternally grateful to have a small village to rely on.

A health scare with my mom last week caused a mobilization of forces in less than 10 minutes. Mom called Shaun. Shaun called Joe and Pam, my two oldest siblings. Joe and Pam called me. I texted my little brother. Someone found Rich.

There was soon a group chat to share information. It wasn’t our first rodeo. Mobilizing forces and sharing duties is something we got plenty of experience with back when Dad was sick. And we learned our roles well.

Pam and Joe volunteered to stay at the ER with mom. The rest of us would wait for orders. There’s an unspoken universal truth in all large families — the oldest ones are eternally in charge.

It turned out to be nothing serious. A blood pressure issue that caused some scary moments for mom and us.

A coworker was surprised I was still at work after getting the call from my siblings.

“They’ve got it,” I said. “This is kinda how it works. We all take turns.”

If you learn nothing else in a big family, you learn to share — chores, food, cars, birthdays, clothes, living space, parents attention….and, if you’re lucky, responsibility.

Each of us have our strengths and weaknesses and our roles in the family are fairly defined, but this — and every — Thanksgiving I’m thankful that all my sibling live here and that everyone pulls their weight in one way or another when it comes to taking of mom (and, really, everyone in the family).

I know it’s not like that for everyone, but I wish that it were.

Be thankful for what you have. Your life is someone else’s fairy tale.

(P.S. Mom has her Thanksgiving on the Sunday before T-day, so we can all be there and don’t have to eat two big meals in one day!).

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About Just Write: Just Write is my adaptation of free writing, a technique in which a person writes continuously and quickly with little regard for spelling, grammar, or topic. It helps writers overcome blocks of apathy and explore everything from meaningful topics to mundane observations with the same effort and without the pressure of crafting perfect prose. I just start writing.

Friday Funny: But, seriously

Friday Funny: Mood

Just Write # 208 ~ Never perfect, always genuine

L tells me a lot. Sometimes, much more than I want to know. I couldn’t imagine discussing the things she talks to me about with my own mother. That’s not her fault. She’s from a different era. You didn’t talk about sex or periods or salary or the realities of parenting/marriage. You just stuffed it all down, sucked it all up, and held it all in.

L holds little in. I don’t hate it. I like knowing what’s going on. (You can take the reporter out of the newsroom, but…). I like to think I can help provide some perspective and/or wisdom. I see things from a different vantage point. Though, there are times I’ve gotten uncomfortable enough to be like, you know, you have older girl cousins, maybe ask them about that. Or Google.

When I was in college, I was scared most of the first couple years, desperately afraid to fail and sure I was in over my head. All the way to the end, I wasn’t confident in which direction to go. But, my parents would’ve been the last ones I’d have asked for help. Back then, when your mom called the landline that you shared with your dorm roomie, you whispered: Tell her I’m at the computer lab.

One year out of college, working in my major (Public Relations), I realized I hated that field. I liked the place I worked, I just didn’t like P.R. I don’t have the personality for it. I have little tolerance for fake people and even less for faking stuff myself. I have a hard time hiding how I feel about something or someone. I don’t consider that a weakness. I actually think authenticity is a huge strength (few can be vulnerable enough to be real), but….it’s a major problem in P.R. where B.S. is the primary language and appearances ALWAYS matter.

I didn’t tell anyone I hated my chosen field or that I had no idea what to do next or that I was afraid I’d just wasted four years of college and tens of thousands of dollars. I just knew I had to get out, so I took an entry-level position at the newspaper, delivering ad proofs to customers. It was a terrible job, but at least it was real. I didn’t have to fake shit day in and day out.

I like the truth. I like authenticity. I like imperfection. I like flaws. I like vulnerability–mine and yours. Anything less bores me or irritates me. Not with everyone, of course. I feel less and less like sharing anything with anyone via social media anymore — talk about inauthentic bullshit, it doesn’t get much more worse than social media.

But with the people in my real life, those tough questions, complicated problems, and honest conversations are what I live for. They keep me grounded. They make me feel like I’m not alone. They recharge me.  Sometimes they also keep me up at night, but I suppose that’s the price of loving and living in the real world.

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About Just Write: Just Write is my adaptation of free writing, a technique in which a person writes continuously and quickly without little regard for spelling, grammar, or topic. It helps writers overcome blocks of apathy and explore everything from meaningful topics to mundane observations with the same effort and without the pressure of crafting perfect prose. I just start writing.

Just Write #206 ~ Stepping back

So much of motherhood is spent rushing headlong into things. It’s, OK, I’m here. I’ve got this.

What do you need? Underwear. Adding it to my shopping list. Forms filled out? Let me get a pen. Immunization records? Calling the doctor’s office. A ride home from practice? I’ll get someone there. Snacks for the team for tomorrow? I’ll stop on the way home from work.

For 18+ years moms are on deck. Ready to step in and fix anything and everything. Move mountains. Fight school boards. Do years and years and years of laundry.

And, then, the kids graduate from high school and it all starts to slow down, like a worn-out music box playing it’s final notes, all drawn out and distorted.

They do more for themselves, as they should. I mean, that’s the end goal in parenting, right? Self-sufficiency.

The temptation to stay overly involved is strong. These days I have to continually remind myself that I’m not needed on deck anymore (or as much). And, that what I really need to do is take a step back. Stop pushing. Stop doing it all. Let them do and be what they want.

K is moving out to go live with a friend and it’s a great opportunity to try life on her own and gain a little independence, and yet, I cannot conceive of my house without her living in it. But here we are.

Twenty years after we put a second floor on our house to make space for our growing family, they are already getting ready to leave and vacate all the extra space.

L has made a bunch of new friends at college (she started this summer) and is busy hanging with them and going on dates with boys I don’t know. I pry gently and then remind myself to take a step back.

Many evenings now I find myself with a clear calendar and an empty house, something I could only dream of few years ago. I don’t always know what to do with myself. What did I do before I had kids? I know I was busy, but what was I busy doing? Maybe the things that had to go once kids came along — gardening, golfing, Saturdays wandering around the mall, sewing, etc.

I’m sure I’ll figure out how to navigate this new stage in life, just as the girls are. A few steps forward, then maybe a step back, existing in this weird parenting limbo.

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About Just Write: Just Write is my adaptation of free writing, a technique in which a person writes continuously and quickly without little regard for spelling, grammar, or topic. It helps writers overcome blocks of apathy and explore everything from meaningful topics to mundane observations with the same effort and without the pressure of crafting perfect prose. I just start writing.

Friday Funny ~ Caption of the year